


What Are You Waiting For?

by Startedwith1Whisper



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 17:13:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6997408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Startedwith1Whisper/pseuds/Startedwith1Whisper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Title from Lady Gaga's "Fashion"</p>
        </blockquote>





	1. Come on, take me out

Chloe can’t really say she’s surprised to learn that Dan’s the dirty cop she’s been chasing all this time. Disappointed, betrayed, pissed off-and how’s she even going to begin explaining this to Trixie?-but she can’t quite manage surprised. At least it should help speed up the divorce. At least Trixie took her “your dad helped the wrong people and needs to go away for a while to make things right” explanation well enough. Well, she did figure out that it means Dan’s in prison, but she said “Well, he’s gotta go there. He can’t make things right unless he does,” so at least she got the gist of it.

And- _how am I even saying this?!_ she can’t help thinking-at least Lucifer’s been there for her the whole time. During the confrontation she’d been so sure Dan was going to kill her, and then at the last second the lieutenant came bursting in to arrest him. Lucifer had come in right behind her, but he’d immediately rushed to Chloe’s side and led her away, his arm gently wrapped around her shoulders.

And that was only the first thing he did right. He’s been the perfect listener, provided her with maddening-but-amusing distractions when she’s needed them, arranged an appointment with Dr. Linda for her to process her feelings of betrayal-he’s even filed all the paperwork for their cases without her asking. She’s practically had to peel him off of her when she’s needed her alone time. If she really thinks about it, she’s not sure she’d have made it this far through the aftermath without him-well, him and her mom’s taking Trixie until the dust settles (which brings its own danger with it, but for now it’s the best thing to do), but mostly him. He’s been the best, most loyal friend she could’ve had throughout this ordeal. Hell, she thinks maybe she’s even falling for him. Not that anyone needs to know that part.

OK, so she might’ve talked it over with Dr. Linda just to reassure herself that she’s still sane and really feeling this way (the mindboggling-but-true answers turn out to be yes and yes, and Dr. Linda couldn’t be more thrilled for them both), but nobody else needs to know.

So when her phone rings at the crack of dawn and the first thing she hears on the other end is a cheery “Detective! How about this evening you get yourself all dolled up, I take you on a fabulous night out, and you forget about all the recent drama with ex-Detective Douche?”

Well, how can she possibly say no to that?


	2. Don't you wanna see these clothes on me?

She takes longer figuring out what to wear than she remembers doing for anything that isn’t the Police Officers’ Ball, although she’s not sure how much of this is due to her own nerves and indecision and how much is her mom obsessively buying dresses and other girly miscellanea-and that’s him rubbing off on her right there, normally she’d just call it “girly crap”-from Bluefly and other sources whose prices she hates to think about in anticipation of her heretofore nonexistent dating life, which just might be getting a jump start tonight. And then there’s the makeup, and the perfume, and what to do with her hair-she gets out of the shower, fires up iTunes, and starts thinking about all these ( _so important to me all of a sudden-but why now? Why with him?_ ) little things at 10 am and before she knows it, she’s missed lunch entirely and is popping M&Ms to take the edge off her hunger with one hand and spraying on that unused bottle of Malin + Goetz Dark Rum her mom got her at Christmas with the other at somewhere around 5:30 pm. And all the while she’s arguing with herself so furiously she’d be ashamed if there was any chance of Dr. Linda possibly seeing her right now.

It goes something like this: her rational side starts with “Why are you doing this-being so indecisive, wanting to look perfect, generally acting like some lovesick teenager heading out on her first date?” to which her emotions (and probably her hormones too) respond “Well, I am lovesick-at least, I think I’m in love with Lucifer-and this feels like a first date!”

Logic Chloe: “But it’s not! It’s Lucifer, crazy friend/semipartner who probably really is the devil like he’s been saying all this time Lucifer-there’s no goddamn way it could be!”

Emotion/Hormone Chloe: “OK, it probably isn’t, I know that, you made it perfectly clear-but it still feels like one! Plus, doesn’t he have a thing for me, too?”

Chloe groans when she feels her heart taking over. _I really am in love with him, aren’t I? Why do I always fall for the difficult ones?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Lady Gaga's "Fashion"


	3. I just can't wait

The black convertible shows up at her door at 7:00 sharp. She’s still putting on the finishing touches, but she sees the headlights from her bedroom window and yells over her shoulder “It’s open, Lucifer, go ahead and let yourself in!”

He does-has been for a while. This is just the first time she’s **let** him do it. “Well, well, Detective Decker giving me permission to let myself in? I never thought I’d see the day!”

She comes into the living room and he falls silent at the sight of her, all décolleté and long legs, temptingly encased in net and sequins and straps and snakeskin, topped off with wavy hair and delicately smoky makeup. _Well, now I guess it **is** a first date if he’s practically turned into a drooling cartoon wolf over me, _ she thinks as he thinks _She’s finally mine tonight, and more resplendent than ever._

When he regains his voice, it drops dangerously. “Bloody hell, woman, why am I even bothering taking you out in public when you look delectable enough that every man we encounter will feel he has the right to touch you?”

She grins as she leads him out of the house and locks up. “Then it’s a good thing I have a guard devil with me to protect my honor, isn’t it?”

The “guard devil” in question is a perfect gentleman, opening the car door for her and helping her in. “Yes, and your honour isn’t all. Tonight and every time I have the pleasure of your company, I swear to protect your whole being from the unsavoury types out there-well, as much as is in my power, and as much as you’ll let me.”

Her romance skills are rusty-that couldn’t be more clear to her once an old military expression’s the first thing that comes to her mind-but she rolls with it anyway. “I’ve got your six if you’ve got mine.”

His smile, combined with his sweet protection promise, makes her heart skip a beat. “Splendid!”

And now, as corny-romance-novel as the (admittedly very Luciferian, when she stops to think it over) phrase sounds when it pops into her head, they’re off into a night of unimaginable possibilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "First Date" by Blink-182  
> Chloe's dress can be found here (http://www.bluefly.com/nicole-miller-blue-and-green-stretch-scale-sequined-illusion-neckline-dress/p/335142701/detail.fly?pcatid=cat60019) and her shoes are these fancy, ultraexpensive things (http://us.christianlouboutin.com/us_en/shop/women/rivierina-4.html)-I think Penelope bought them for her.


	4. I'm gonna give all my secrets away

Dinner’s at one of the nicer restaurants in town-a private room, of course. The food’s amazing, the wine he’s chosen complements it perfectly, and the conversation flows more smoothly than any other first date she’s had in her life. His natural tendency toward innuendo somehow results in them admitting that they’re both clean and she’s on the Pill, all before the entrees even get to the table, but it feels fun and organic rather than crude like it would be from most guys.

Over dessert (devil’s food cake- _oh, very funny, smartass_ ), she asks the big question that’s been nagging at her: “So. About the last time I came to Lux-why did I see Amenadiel behind the bar, looking like someone just killed his puppy?”

“Well, I told you I made a deal with my father to stay here, right?”

“Yeah, but my not-insignificant investigative skills would’ve told me that even if you hadn’t, since you’re **still here**.”

“But I didn’t give you the details. Since Maze was the one who wanted to go back in the first place, I convinced Father that we’d all be better off if she went back and ran hell in my place and I stayed here on Earth, catching criminals with you and marking them for her to deal with after they die.”

She grins for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. “Sounds perfect. You always could talk your way out of trouble. Now, where exactly does depressed Amenadiel fit into all this?”

“Ah, yes. Since Maze’s departure, I’ve been in need of a bartender. Amenadiel couldn’t talk Father out of taking my deal, so he’s been filling in until I find a new one-a little brotherly wager I made with him.”

“And he hates every bit of it because he’s a stick-in-the-mud, so he does the job but mopes the whole time?”

“Precisely.”

Once the waitress brings his credit card back, he pulls Chloe’s chair out, hitting her with a deadly combination of chivalry and his trademark smirk. “I know this brilliant little club. Shall we?”

She links her arm in his. “We shall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from OneRepublic's "Secrets"


	5. When we up in the club

Surprisingly enough, the club he takes her to isn’t Lux. He instead chooses a little out-of-the-way place in the back of a warehouse, with “Club 44” written above the club door.

“I didn’t know you even went to any clubs you don’t own!” she teases.

The current twist of his smile makes her almost certain of her conclusion that he’s the actual devil-or is he the ex-devil, now that Maze is doing the job? “Well, club owners talk amongst ourselves; sometimes in the course of things we end up auditing each other’s businesses. I do occasionally like to go to a nightspot like this, where I’m less well-known.”

“What, so this place is like your own little den of anonymity?” she teases again, proud of herself-hey, you try basing a pun on “iniquity”!

He laughs at this, a full belly laugh. She’s never seen anything as beautiful as his mirth, and she’s so proud to be the one to do that to him. “You do seem to have been hiding quite the wicked sense of humour from me all this time; I love it! And yes, I suppose you could call the place my ‘den of anonymity’”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "Scream & Shout" by will.i.am and Britney Spears


	6. Let it rain over me

“Girl, my body don’t lie, I’m out of my mind…” As the beginning of “Rain Over Me” pounds over the speakers, Chloe heads toward the dance floor. “Come on, get up here and dance with me!”

Lucifer groans. “Oh, come now, Detective, you know how much I hate rap!”

She makes her eyes as wide and innocent as she can get them, even as she’s thinking _I can’t believe I’m giving him the puppy-dog pout! I never do that with guys-at least not guys I like, and not on the first date!_ “Well, I don’t really like rap as a whole either, but I love this song. Please? For me?”

He puts on an exaggerated sigh, but his tone of voice reveals his cooperation. “Well, if you insist. You know I’d do anything for you, my dear Detective!” and he follows her onto the floor.

His chest presses against her back and she moves against him, feeling his cock swell against her ass. Her hair’s in his face, and it-she-has the most delectable smell, her own intoxicating aroma mixed with that of a very particular alcoholic beverage. He gets the idea that talking about the scent coming from her will distract his mind from how much he wants her-it makes no sense, but he’ll try anything by this point.

“You smell like rum!” he yells, desperately trying to ignore his boner. “I wanted to mention it earlier, but I was afraid you might kick my arse if I said anything!”

She yells back “It’s my perfume! We’re on a first date, so I wouldn’t have kicked your ass-I’m actually glad you noticed!”

Before he can stop it, he blurts out “It suits you very well-you smell delicious!”

“Thanks!” She’s glad the rainbow lights on the dance floor hide her blush.

As the song progresses, she spins around to face him and hooks her leg into his. He slides his arms up to wrap around her neck, sending a fire through her veins, leading her to grind against him. His huge cock’s rubbing her pussy and especially her clit in all the right places, but the layers of fabric between them slightly muffle the sensation, keeping them on the dance floor instead of looking for an empty bathroom stall. She grabs onto his shoulders and grinds harder.

When the song ends, they’re frozen in the middle of the floor, still holding each other, legs still hooked together. Their bodies and faces are so close they’re breathing on each other’s mouths without actually kissing-something she’d normally find repulsive but loves right now, with him-so close she’d only have to move her hips one more time to kiss him. The music’s changed-now it’s Rihanna, “Only Girl in the World”-and if Chloe could hear it she’d probably agree with its sentiments despite herself, but right now all she can hear is the pounding of her heart in her ears; and when she shoots a hand out to touch his chest, she feels his heart pounding in perfect counterpoint to hers.

Suddenly she realizes what she now has to admit has been in front of her all this time. “You’re really in love-real, forever, ride-or-die, I’d-do-anything-for-you love-with me. You have been all this time, haven’t you?”

“Abso-bloody-lutely, Chloe,” he breathes, but he doesn’t need to-his eyes tell the story of his unconditional devotion in a much deeper way than any words he could come up with.

“I don’t know for sure that I’m in love with you-well, I’m actually pretty sure I am, but I’m scared to be. Damn willing to give us a try, though.” With that she makes the final move and presses her lips to his.

The floor spins beneath her. Normally she’d try to blame it on these stupid shoes, but she navigates LA and takes down criminals in boots with heels all the time. Here’s the real difference: she doesn’t normally have mutual romantic confessions with an incredibly handsome man/devil/what-have-you she’s known for several months. He’s normally not kissing her like he’s found salvation itself in her existence, hands desperately running down her body from neck to ass and thumbs grazing her nipples and, subtly, her pussy, and then coming back up and tangling in her hair, like he wants to touch her everywhere at once and doesn’t know where to touch first.

Finally, just as Chloe’s lungs start burning, Lucifer pulls back. She’s breathing hard, like she’s been underwater, and her nerve endings are tingling everywhere he’s touched her, and she’s pretty sure she’s just discovered a new lake inside her panties. “Remember when you tried to make me breakfast and caught me naked, and then you tried to make us even when I stopped by your place?” she pants out, continuing at his nod: “I didn’t handle that last part too well. Think I could get a do-over?”

His brown eyes get darker somehow as he literally sweeps her off her feet, and she wraps an arm around his neck with a small “whoa!”

“I’ve been dying for you to say that all night,” he says in that dangerously low voice from the house.

He’s carrying her out of the club to the car now, and she knows how ridiculous this must look, but all she can bring herself to do is laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "Rain Over Me," Pitbull and Marc Anthony


	7. You got to give it all to me

As they pass through Lux to get to the penthouse, Chloe catches Amenadiel’s eye. He gives her a “take care of my brother” look. She nods, because she’d never dream of doing anything else. It shows in her eyes, and he smiles for the first time since he started tending bar for Lucifer. She smiles back, but it’s short-lived because Lucifer grabs her and pulls her into another searing kiss as soon as the elevator doors close.

When they open again, she wraps her legs around his waist and lets him walk them both into the penthouse, too busy nipping at his bottom lip and twisting her tongue to meet his to even think about walking. She tosses her purse onto the couch and lets her hands roam, pushing his jacket off his shoulders, but stops them after that, careful of his wing scars.

He pulls back slightly and says “About the scars-they’re connected to my state of mind. I didn’t let you touch them during our quid pro quo because my mind was in turmoil and they would’ve, as Maze would say, ‘hurt like a motherfucker.’”

“So, if I touch them now, since we’re together and you’ve worked things out with your dad?”

“Try it.”

She brings one hand off his shoulder and brushes the left scar gently. He purrs-in hindsight she’d swear he literally purrs, like a cat-and arches into her touch.

She kisses him harder and brings her other arm around, rubbing the scars more briskly. He growls this time, trailing his head down and biting her neck. Her fingertips involuntarily press further into the scars at the scrape of his teeth, leading him to feverishly suck the bite into what’s going to be a monstrous hickey as he bucks against her and squeezes her tits. She’s never felt this much pleasure with all her clothes still on.

“Oh, fuck!” she gasps, undoing the straps on her shoes and stepping out of them and further into his arms. “Fuck, Lucifer, **please**.” She doesn’t even know what she’s begging for-she just wants everything, and he’s the one she wants to do it all to her. She reaches up and starts unbuttoning his shirt, hoping that’ll light the fuse.

“Chloe,” her name comes out in a deep, needy moan, like she’s the one thing in this world keeping him alive. Taking this as a sign to keep going, she finishes the buttons and sends the shirt with the jacket. She runs her hands over his pecs, trying to give as well as she’s just gotten, snakes her hands back over the scars-he exhales a whispered “fuck” at that-and then to the top of his belt. Popping the buckle and pulling his pants down, she finds the sweet spot for her knees and assumes the position.

He’s gone commando-figures-and she now sees his cock in its full glory. It’s long and thick, rock-hard like in the club, and for a moment she wonders if her pussy can handle it, but she figures that’ll be dealt with when it’s dealt with. For now she just takes the beautiful thing into her mouth, sliding up and down it and using her hand to work what she can’t suck. She’s never been so eager about it before, but this time-with him-it’s different.

Lucifer gets a head rush as her ministrations bring all the blood to his cock-he thinks he might’ve fallen if her hands weren’t firmly bracketing his hips. He moans under his breath as the wonderful suction of her mouth slides, but then she twirls her tongue around the head and down and his vision starts to blur. “Chloe-fuck!-we have to move this to the bedroom now, love” and he decides screw it, he can leave his trousers right here in the living room. She slides off his cock with a whine, until he picks her up and kisses her. His own precum and the unique taste of her lips make an intoxicating blend.

Once they get into the bedroom, he eyes her over and growls “Chloe, you’re wearing far too bloody many clothes,” slowly running the zipper down her back. She peels the dress down to pool at her feet, revealing her lack of a bra, and he lowers her onto the bed, worshipping her tits once again. She squirms. “Fuck, Lucifer, I need more, please.”

He strokes her arm reassuringly before sliding her panties off and settling between her legs.

Is his tongue really forked like the legends say, or is he just particularly skilled with it? It doesn’t matter-Chloe’s practically a live wire now, electricity coursing through her body and a stronger pleasure than she’s ever gotten from oral the only thing clear in her mind. She brackets her thighs around Lucifer’s head to keep him in place and keep it coming.

Like there’s any way he’d leave now. Her exquisite body, the sounds she makes-it’s every man’s fantasy, and he’s proud to be the one bringing it to life.

He sucks on her clit, flicking the tip of his tongue in her pussy and running his hands over her ass. She falls apart at that, unleashing a string of semi-intelligible curses as he rides out the fierce bucking of her hips and swallows every drop.

She flips them once she’s recovered, aligning herself on his cock like an expert-thank [name redacted] for muscle memory. She starts out teasing, slowly sliding. After only a few of these, he can’t stand it. “Shit, Chloe, speed up.”

She won’t right away, arching her eyebrow instead. “Chlo, **please** , it’s not enough.” This, right here-him a needy, begging mess underneath her, shortening her name because the lust is clouding his brain-has to be the most beautiful sight of her life so far. How can she say no?

She obliges and rides him faster, harder, adding a twist of her hips on the downstroke. Her hands slink under him, settling back on the scars. She rubs over them in a mirror image of her thrusts-fingers down on the upstroke and vice versa. His answering thrusts are harder and more erratic. “Oh, bloody fuck, Chloe, yes!”

Her answering grin’s just as wicked as any of the ones he’s given her over the past few months. “Yeah, you like that, baby?” He tries to reply, but can only manage to run his nails down her back as a moan’s wrenched from his throat. “I’ll take that as a yes. Oh, I love being able to do this to you.”

Now he’s hitting her G-spot every time they move. She normally can’t come again so quickly, but he’s brought her to the edge while she’s in the middle of doing it to him.

“Chloe, yes, please-Chloe, stop, I-”

“What, Luce, you’re gonna come?” He grits his teeth and nods.

“It’s OK, babe, it’s OK-come for me.”

He growls out something Latin-sounding as he comes-all she can make out is her name and something like “futuere,” which she figures must be an analogue to “fuck”-and the force of his orgasm makes her come again with a garbled cry.

He’s smiling at her when she comes back to full awareness. “So was all of this worth the risks-to your safety, to mine, to the entire world?”

She returns the smile. “Easily, and it always will be, as long as you’ll have me.”

“Then let that brother of mine who’s even more of a goody two-shoes than Amenadiel come-he still can’t separate us. I love you, Chloe Decker, even if it brings on the apocalypse.”

“I love you too. I think I tried not to at first, but it was probably always there. And if your dad was able to come around on letting you stay here, I think He’ll be OK with this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "Marvin Gaye," Charlie Puth and Meghan Trainor


	8. Text me in the morning

Her phone buzzes, waking her up. She rolls over and groans when the lit screen reads “4:15 am New text from: Mom”.

“What is it, love?” Lucifer whispers behind her, and _you woke both of us up? Damn it, Mom!_

“Nothing. It’s just my mom overtexting-you know, like oversharing, only she’s the one who wants me to overshare-about my date. And no, you can’t tease me about ‘overtexting’-I can make up new words if I want to.” She swipes the screen and reads the text, which is just as bad as she’s expected and somehow simultaneously not so bad: How’s ur date? Who’s ur date? U take him home? She types back: MOM! 

Answers? 

Good date. It’s Lucifer from work. I don’t kiss + tell. 

Ooh, sexy British oddball from work Lucifer? The 1 who’s been takin care of u since the Dan fiasco? Bet he’d b good n bed. 

She reads this one out loud, frustrated by Penelope’s desire for the date’s most intimate details. \

Lucifer’s confused by her dismayed tone. “Wasn’t I, though?”

The question-and _is it, and the accompanying insecurity, sincere, or is he just trying to make this less awkward?_ She’s (mostly correctly) leaning toward the latter-does its job and makes her smile. “Yes, you’re probably the best I’ve ever had-which isn’t an excuse to get cocky, mind you-but she doesn’t need to know that at 4 am, or possibly ever.”

She types back, Still don’t kiss + tell. 

Well, **is** he good n bed? 

MOM. “I don’t kiss + tell” means NO DETAILS. 

Yeah, I get overbearing sometimes, but u know I wanna make sure the date went well + ur happy. I

know, +  I am, but u don’t need 2 know evry detail of my happiness @ 4 am. + some not @ all. Boundaries, Mom. 

Got it. If it went well + u 2 need mor time alone (winking emoji) I can keep Trixie 4 another week! 

Chloe sighs- _she’s just not getting it!_ -and replies 4 now let’s say u bring her back Monday like we’d planned-I’ll let u know if th@ changes. That’ll at least give her the weekend here.

OK. Love u! 

She sends back a quick Love u 2 and rolls back into Lucifer’s side. As she goes back to sleep, she figures that _life as the devil’s girlfriend-and do I possibly dare to desire more? There’s a question for another day-can’t be too much crazier than the past few months already have been._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "Text Me in the Morning," Neon Trees

**Author's Note:**

> This starts out with an alternative to the way Palmetto was resolved on the show but is really Lucifer and Chloe finally figuring out what can't be denied between them-the Dan revelation is basically a setup for the first Deckerstar date.  
> The title and all the chapter titles are lines from popular songs-some obvious, some maybe less so. The main title's from Ellie Goulding's "Love Me Like You Do" and chapter 1's from Franz Ferdinand's "Take Me Out".


End file.
